When All is Said and Done
by LittleKnux2008
Summary: Two days before Survivor Series, the Undertaker approaches Stephanie with an offer for revenge on her father. Will she accept? R&R... Sorry for the lack of update!
1. Part 1

**Changes:** Smackdown is done live, and when 'Taker announced who he was having a match with; it was the Smackdown before Survivor Series.

**When All is Said and Done**

**Part 1 of ?**

Stephanie McMahon stared at the television quietly as Smackdown went off of the air for the last commercial. Her teeth gritted, blood rushing through her head. _'I leave, and he replaces me with…that bastard Paul Heyman!' _she thought angrily. _'Ratings are going to drop, and he thinks that he actually won!' _she ranted, her nails digging into her palms. She leaned back into the couch in her family room. _'I hate him,' _she thought, an image of her father swimming in her thoughts. Almost as quick as a reflex, she recalled back when she'd never dream of thinking those three words. _'He doesn't care; and neither should you,' _she reprimanded herself. Smackdown returned, and she focused on her TV once more.

Her brown eyes darkened as the match between the Undertaker, Big Show, and Brock Lesner ended finally, Undertaker being the winner. But it wasn't that she was glaring at; it was the image of her father, shocked look on his face. _'Remember when you looked up into that face, and said "I love you Daddy, I want to be just like you when I grow up"?' _her thoughts taunted her. Stephanie shifted on the couch as her father walked down the aisle to the ring, a microphone in hand. She didn't listen to his words while her eyes locked onto the miniscule image of the Undertaker, panting and barely standing. Somehow, she knew what was going to happen. He loved being in power, and when he wasn't, he found a way. And at the moment, the beaten Undertaker was a potential. Her mood darkened further.

She tried to remain emotionless as Vince attacked Undertaker, mocking him throughout. _'Oh, yeah, Dad. Beating a man who can barely stand on his own makes you a dominant person,' _she thought sarcastically.

"So what's it going to be, 'Taker?" her dad asked a taunting tone to his voice. _'No matter what he picks, Dad's going to make sure he's screwed in the end. No matter who he picks, he'll get screwed,' _Stephanie thought, and by the expression she found mixed in with the pain on the Undertaker's face, he knew it.

Stephanie shook her head quietly as her father continued, a slight haze appearing in her gaze. She remembered only weeks ago when she'd still been hoping for her father to have a change of heart; to go back to what he was. Stephanie glared at his picture on the television in front of her. _'And there he goes, trying to control everything again…' _she thought, setting her chin on her knee.

"The match is…Buried Alive," the Undertaker rasped, and Stephanie's eyes widened.

She'd been waiting for something big…but not that big. _'Maybe now he'll get what's coming to him,' _she thought to herself emotionlessly. Suddenly, a shrill ring cut through the air, and Stephanie jumped. Her eyes darted toward the portable phone in front of her. She snatched it up, pressing the talk button. "Hello?" she asked, her eyes still intent on the television.

"Hey, Steph," the Undertaker's calm voice came through the phone. For a brief second, Stephanie was confused, and then she immediately remembered that she'd missed the Thursday show of Smackdown, and it was already Saturday.

"Hey," she greeted, lip-reading what he was saying on the show. "I would wish you good luck for tomorrow, but I have a feeling you won't need it; facing my dad and all." A sharp bit of pain erupted in her chest. _She _hadn't been able to beat her father. And now _she _was out of a job. _''Taker can handle Dad,' _she thought, but it didn't stop her from starting to worry. During her job as GM, she and the Undertaker had forged some sort of friendship. What if Vince screwed Undertaker in some way? Got him fired, or buried alive? She sighed into the phone. "You know he's going to try and screw you over?"

She heard him shift in the background. "If he didn't, it'd be the closest thing to heaven that the WWE has ever had…" Stephanie nodded in agreement, not really realizing that he couldn't see her over the phone. "I called because…well, I need your help." Stephanie's eyes widened. _'He needs my help?' _she thought, and raised her eyebrows. It took a lot to make the Undertaker admit things like that… She wondered what had happened.

"What do you need me for?" she questioned, keeping her tone light, curiosity swelling.

"Stephanie, don't take any offense to this, but who knows Vince the best?" he spoke smoothly, a slight southern accent to his voice.

"My family," she responded, refusing to single out herself.

"I need you because you're a McMahon."

"Find my brother," she snapped, and regretted it immediately. _'Why did I just say that?' _she asked, but deep down she knew the answer. "Sorry… Look, I don't even want to go near Dad right now, I'm sorry! Whatever you want me to do, if it concerns him, I'm not doing it."

"Stephanie," this time there was a warning note to his voice. He paused, and then he spoke again, softer this time. "Don't tell me that in all your time off, revenge hasn't crossed your mind."

"Yeah, it has. And so?" she challenged.

"Why are you waiting for it? I'm giving you a chance to have it."

"I hate him for what he's done to me, but…" she trailed off. "He's family, and I love him; but only because he's Dad…" Stephanie admitted quietly. "And you still haven't told me what you want me to do."

"You haven't given me time," countered the Undertaker. "And _how _can you still love him? If say, Shane, turned his back on you and tried to destroy your life, what would you do?" Stephanie bowed her head.

"That's…"

"No. It's not different; it's the same damn thing," his voice was harsh.

Stephanie looked down at the floor. _'He's right. I would get revenge on Shane.' _"I'm afraid he'll hurt my friends if I do," she said quietly.

He interrupted the stony silence. "Vince is going to try and screw me by the contract. He faxed it to me today…and I can't really trust my lawyers. Vince isn't high enough in morals to resist bribing those money-grubbers."

"You want me to proofread it?" Stephanie blinked. _'Is that it?' _

"Basically. You're the only one I trust on stuff like that." He took a breath, "The rest is up to you, Stephanie. I want you to valet to the ring with me. It'll give him a nice kick in the balls. It'll show him that he can't control you."

"And then what would happen?" Stephanie asked quietly.

"He'll call you out on the next show, you know that. If you're not there he'll accuse you of being a coward. You know where it would go from there," he said.

_'Yeah, someone like Kurt will come out and stand up for me, and get pummeled in the process.' _"You proved my point. If I come out with you, he'll get to my friends. I'll look over the contract…But I'm not walking out with you."

"Think about it," the Undertaker suggested. "You're a bright girl," coming from him, it was a great compliment. "I'll fax this contract over there for you, but I have to ask one last favor."

"What?" Stephanie asked, dreading the answer.

"Will you give it to me at the arena? My flight leaves early tomorrow morning."

"No problem," Stephanie said. She may have been banned from Smackdown, but not the joint PPV.

"I meant what I said; about keeping the valet job in mind," he said after a moment.

"I know," Stephanie responded, and hung up. She stood, walking the short distance to the kitchen, grabbing a can of pop. As she did, she caught her reflection in a circular mirror hanging above the sink. _'Dad kicked me out of my job. He tortured me and Mom for weeks… Isn't it time he got something coming to him, from someone other than 'Taker?' _Her eyes drifted to the floor. _'Can I do this?'_

_'No!' _Stephanie sighed, sitting down on a chair. _'It's not right…'_

At the same time she rejected the offer for revenge…her heart rebelled. Vince McMahon had hurt her so much over the past weeks… _'Is it back to kindergarten, the whole 'he did it first'?' _Groaning, she buried her head in her arms, wishing that the answer that she wanted would be clear to her. _'He deserves it,' _the fact was engraved in her mind, the one solid point.

Stephanie stood up, trying to keep her thoughts light as she walked toward the fax machine. There was the contract—all 7 pages of it. She rubbed her tired eyes, and glanced at the clock. Yawning, she snatched the papers to the contract, grabbing a highlighter, a block of sticky notes, and a pencil as she sat at her desk. _'What's the big step from doing this and being a valet to the Undertaker? Either way…I'm still betraying him.'_

Stephanie blinked, setting down her materials and leaning back in her chair. Was she actually considering doing this? _'I'd have to review my contract… But… But what would happen to me once Vince finds out? What will he do to me…to my friends?'_

"My friends can handle themselves," she said hesitantly to the silence before her. The fact was true… She picked up her pencil, writing 'yes' and 'no' across one sticky note, staring at it like the source of her problems.

Stephanie gripped her pencil harder, staring down at the sticky note. _'If I'm so believing that it's not morally right to hate my father… Then what about him? Shouldn't he be loving me? It's not _right_ for him to hate me… But I can't change his mind. What's the use loving and protecting someone who's trying to tear you down?'_

_'He isn't my dad. My dad cared about me. But now he's dead, and there's an imposter running wild,' _her throat tightened as thoughts spilled from the conscious of her heart, _'and I need to kill that imposter. Squash him like a bug on a windshield because he's degrading my dad's name. He's hurting the people my dad loved the most.' _Her hand shook as she lifted the pencil, hovering it above the sticky note.

Taking a deep breath, Stephanie pressed the pencil down, and made a large circle. _'There,' _she looked down at the bright yellow piece, its contents signifying the world to her. _'He's going to get what was coming to him…Sunday, and every other Thursday after that.'_


	2. Part 2

**Author's Note: **I won't even **try **and apologize for this length of time without updating, lol. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, though. Please review!

* * *

**When All Is Said and Done**

**Part 2 of 4**

How long had it been since she'd stepped foot in a WWE arena? Stephanie McMahon pondered the thought as she did so. It taken a bit of plans, but she'd slipped in a side entrance, unnoticed by the guards. She had a backstage pass from a Smackdown! that had been in this town two years ago. Anyone passing by would think the pass was legit, and that was good enough for her. Over her tight jeans, she was wearing a black sweatshirt, the hood pulled up so it obscured her face. She didn't want for it to get around to her dad that she was in the building.

Last night she had decided to valet for the Undertaker in his Buried Alive match with Vince...but on way to the arena, she'd begun to have her doubts once more. Did she really want her father breathing down her neck again? Did she want him to send his minions after her, to beat her down night after night? Did she want to be an unneeded extra burden to her friends? No, she didn't. Perhaps... Perhaps it was just best that she stayed out of Vince McMahon's business...

...publicly.

Thinking about it and thinking about it, she'd realized what should have been obvious: there were valid points to each side. All this time she had been trying to choose between two choices, but now she knew she had a third. She wanted to piss Vince off, she wanted to make him pay, but she didn't want to suffer the consequences. And how could she, if Vince didn't know who was doing this to him? Stephanie smiled. Oh, how simple it was...simple, yet brilliant. She could work from the 'backseat', so to speak, without him noticing a damn thing other than the fact that all of a sudden the world was turning against him.

Oh, yeah... This was going to be one fun year.

Stephanie scurried along a hallway, looking for the Undertaker's name plate on a doorway. She nearly ran into a few wrestlers, avoiding them just barely. _'Shit, shit, shit,' _a few minutes later, she began to worry. Stephanie had entered the building when the PPV was halfway done. She'd been there nearly twenty minutes. The contract signing would take place just before the match, and what if the contract wasn't there for them to sign? "Excuse me!" Stephanie stopped a stagehand. "Where is the Undertaker's locker room?"

"I'm sorry ma'am," the stagehand looked at her weirdly; most likely because of her dress. "He doesn't want to be disturbed before his match. Hey—do I know you from somewhere?"

Stephanie grabbed the woman's shoulders tightly. "No. Listen, I'm his lawyer, and I've got a contract to deliver." She waved the document so the smaller woman could see it. "Now where is his locker room?"

"Down that hallway to the left, the third one down," the woman squeaked. "You'd better hurry though," she listened to something in the earpiece she was wearing, "they just sent a stage runner to go and get him to the ring."

"Shit," not bothering with a thank you, Stephanie took off at a run, slamming into various different people. She stumbled after some of the hits, but continued onward, cursing her platform heeled shoes. _'God, the one day I should've won my sneakers...'_

"Hey!" Stephanie screamed as she ran head-on into someone. Hands caught her before she fell, and pulled her upright. "Where are you to in such a hurry?" Stephanie felt her hood slipping back, and tried to fix it, but the person she ran into was still holding her hands. The brunette didn't met their eyes, afraid of recognition.

"I've gotta go," she muttered, trying to escape their grasp.

"Are you o—" Stephanie knew that from the intake of breath her hood had slipped from her head. She looked up, and gasped, realizing her captor was none other than Kurt Angle. "Stephanie! What are you doing here?"

"Shh!" Stephanie hissed, looking around and making sure no one had heard his exclamation. "Listen, Kurt, I've got to give this to someone, _now_, but as soon as I get back I'll talk to you, okay?" she said, and he hesitated. "Please!"

Looking confused and worried, Kurt released her. Stephanie flashed a quick smile, and darted off toward the locker room, pulling the hood back over her head so it shielded her face. The WWE was about two stagehands less by the time she reached the locker room. Not bothering to knock, she threw the door open, only to see that it was empty. Groaning in frustration, Stephanie turned in the direction of the ring. She sprinted toward it, breathing heavily. _'Jesus... If I get through this alive, I swear to God I'll do laps around the neighborhood everyday!'_

"'Taker!" she yelled, spotting him on the stairs leading toward the entrance to the steel ramp. She waved the manila envelope in her hands. "I've got it!" Stephanie was only a few yards away. The Undertaker looked at her as she ran toward him, and smiled.

Then he turned and stepped through the curtains.

"No! Wait!" Stephanie screeched, running up to the curtains, but it was no use. He'd stepped through without the contact. The brunette bent over, trying to catch her breath and figure what to do in her time limit. _'I can give them to a stagehand, or I can take them myself,' _Stephanie realized. She whirled around, and spotted a woman by the desk of digits and dials in front of the curtains. The woman was petite, with small black glasses and an Asian air to her. Stephanie ran over to her. "Listen, I have the contract that these two are supposed to sign, I'm 'Taker's lawyer, he forgot it in his locker room," she wheezed, and handed her the envelope. "Please take this to them." The woman, running a hand over her dark brown hair, reached forward and grabbed the envelope with one manicured hand.

Stephanie, however, didn't let go of it. Her breath was haggard, and her body felt like she was going to collapse. The stagehand peered at her through the secretarial glasses she wore. "Uh...Miss?" she prompted. Stephanie's eyes darted wildly from the envelope to the stagehand, but she didn't let go of the envelope.

Her decision had to be made...**now**.

* * *

The Undertaker glared at Vince McMahon as he slowly entered the ring, knowing Vince wouldn't dare attack him now. There was a cocky smirk on the face of the chairman of the WWE, and Undertaker knew that there must've been something in the contract that made Vince so ungodly confident. Stephanie would've caught it. 'Taker smiled chillingly at Vince, and inwardly laughed as the other man looked slightly worried. "Let's get this over with," Vince said finally into a microphone, and the two sat down at a table stationed in the ring.

Looking oddly polite, the Undertaker asked for the microphone, and got it. "Bring the contract out," he gruffly demanded. He, Vince, and nearly half a nation snapped their eyes to the curtains, whether on a T.V. set or at the other end of the arena.

The navy curtains at the top of the steel ramp curled around a figure, and flew back as they were pushed apart. A lone brunette stepped from them.


End file.
